Knock On My Door
by solitaires a bitch
Summary: HouseCameron one-shot, told thru an OC POV


Disclaimer: don't own it...damn.

Summary: House goes to Cameron's to convince her to come back.

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Caroline Cameron looked up from her book as three loud smacks sounded against the door. She rolled her eyes, returning to reading, figuring that Allison would get it. When the smacking occurred again a few minutes later, she sighed in agitation when her aunt yelled out, "Caroline? Can you get the door?"

"Fine," she called out, unfolding her legs and throwing her book down onto the couch. "Even though I was at a really good part of my book."

She heard Allison snort from the kitchen area. "Please. I doubt you were even reading it."

"Was so," she replied, one hand now on the doorknob. "Just because it was the same sentence doesn't mean I wasn't reading." Allison laughed and threw a dishtowel at her neice, then walked back into the kitchen.

Caroline giggled, then swung the door open. Her smile dropped away almost immediately as she came face to face with a certain Dr. House. "What?" she asked rudely, raising an eyebrow.

"Hello," he greeted. He eyed her white hoodie sweatshirt, pink plaid pajama pants, and backwards white baseball cap. "I think I have the wrong..." He stuck his head inside briefly, taking a few glances at the interior. "...place."

"Well." Caroline gave him a brief, tight smile. "You wouldn't know until you tell me who you're looking for, would you?"

His eyebrows were in danger of disappearing into his hairline, they were raised so high. "Right," he said. "Might help. Then again, it might help if you shut up and let me get a word in edgewise."

"Did I _look _or _sound _like I was talking just then?" She shook her head, her thick blonde bun hitting her in the neck as she did. "I don't think so. So will you stop being Mr. Grouchy-Pants and tell me what you want?"

"OK." He stretched the corners of his mouth downwards briefly, mouthing, 'Harsh' before continuing. "I'm looking for Cameron."

She stifled a laugh. "Which one?"

House winced; he really had to remember that 'Cameron' wasn't her actual name. "Allison."

The teenagers steely green eyes brightened at the mention of her aunt. "Yeah, hold on. Hey Allison!" she yelled. "Some dude's here, looking for you!"

"Yeah?" called out her aunt. "What's he look like?"

"Um..." She eyed him. "He's got greying brown hair...and he's, like, hot in a scruffy way...and he's got this weirdcane and shit."

There was a loud crashing noise, and Caroline temporarily abandoned the door to go check on her aunt. "Ally?" she called. "Are you okay?"

Her aunt appeared, breathless, and wiping her hands off with another dishtowel. "Yeah," she said. "I just...dropped a dish." She gestured over her shoulder. "Care, sweets? Can you pick up the bigger pieces for me?"

"Why would you...oh." She looked between Allison and her former boss, who were staring at each other. "Well...I have a feeling I'm going to be ignored, so I'm going to just go clean up the dangerous pieces of glass." She pivoted and headed for the kitchen, muttering about absent-minded aunts and crazy men with canes.

"So..." House said, tapping his cane on the ground. "Who's that?"

"Hmm?" The bigger Cameron looked up at him, still a bit distracted that House was in her apartment. "Oh, Caroline? She's my neice."

"Funny." He furrowed his brow. "She looks nothing like you. Almost as if you're not-"

"We aren't," she said, cutting him off. He raised an eyebrow at her. "My older brother, Daniel, adopted her when I was twenty.She was eight years old...and threeyears ago, Daniel and my sister-in-law, Rachel, were killed ina drunk driving accident. Since I'm her only living relative...she lives with me."

There was a muffled curse from the kitchen, and Caroline called out, "Um...Aunt Allison?" She appeared in the doorway, jumping on one foot. "I kind of stepped on the glass."

"Oh, my god," Allison muttered, rushing over to help her to the couch. "Here, hon, sit down and I'll go clean up the rest of the glass." She pulled the dishtowel off of her shoulder and threw it at House. "You're a doctor, you help her."

He caught the towel in surprise, looked down at it, then hobbled over to where the fourteen year old was clutching her steadily bleeding foot. "You know," he said, sitting down heavily. "If you had been wearing shoes, this wouldn't have happened."

"You know," she mimicked. "If you hadn't shown up, this wouldn't have happened."

"Touche," he muttered, folding the towel and wrapping it around her foot, tightly. "I can tell that you two aren't related."

She smirked. "Because she's so nice, and I'm sarcastic? Because everyone in her family is short and I'm easily over five foot six? Or maybe it had to do with the fact that we look nothing alike?"

"The first one," he said, looking up at her with twinkling blue eyes. "And possibly the third."

"It was rhetorical," she said, wincing as he pulled too tight. "And you're hurting me."

"Oh, suck it up," he said, glaring playfully at her now. "It can't hurt that bad."

"You," she said, her voice getting choked up. "Forgot to take the glass out...ow..ow...ow..."

His eyes widened, and he unwrapped the towel and lifted her foot in the air. After pulling the thick piece of glass out, he inspected the cut. Whistling low, he met her eyes. "This is pretty deep. Not deep enough for stitches, but it sure as hell won't be fun to walk on."

He began wrapping her foot up again, and she leaned forward so that her chin was resting on her bent knee. She looked him over, and it was almost as if she could see through him. It unnerved him. "What."

"Did Ally tell you I was adopted?" she whispered. "Did she tell you she's all I have left?"

He paused, looking up at her. Her large, green eyes were wet with unshed tears. "She might have mentioned it." His hand began to wind around her foot again, pulling the towel. "Why?"

"Because...I saw how she was looking at you. It was the same way she looked at Jay." Sensing the need to continue even though he didn't ask, she said, "Jay...she met him in college. They were so totally..." She crossed her middle finger with her index one, making them look twined. "...like this, y'know? And he asked her to marry him. And she did." She looked down. "But he died a few months later. And then...my adoptive parents died not too long after that. She's had so much to deal with, and now there's this complete and total asshole at work that she's, like, in love with. I can only assume the A-Hole is you."

"Well," he said brightly, knocking her hat off her head. She glared at him."You know what they say when you assume something." Her eyes glittered, and she opened her mouth and said, at the exact same time as he did, "You make an _ass_ out of _u _and _me._" Caroline grinned, picking her hat up and placing it backwards on her head again. "So...why would it be me?"

"Please." She rolled her eyes. "I've met Chase. He's a jerk; too obsessed with his hair. It was weird. And I doubt it was Foreman, since he so doensn't have a cane." She shook her head. "We're soooo off topic right now. The point is..." She looked towards the kitchen, then dropped her voice to make sure that her aunt couldn't hear her. "Can you do me a favour? Can you _please_ be careful with her? She's all I have left, and if something happens to her...I don't know what I'd do. She needs a chance to be happy, and this place has made her, like, massively so." She glanced down at her foot. "Andyou can let go of that now."

He withdrew his hands as if burnt. "Right," he muttered, glancing up as the older Cameron walked back in. "Thank God," he declared loudly, pretending as if that whole conversation hadn't happened. "Why did you leave me with the teenager? You're a perfectly capable doctor, you know."

Allison dutifully ignored him, and said, "Caroline, can you go to your room? House and I need to talk."

"'Kay," she sighed, getting up and limping off to her room. "But don't think I'm not going to eavesdrop. It's fun, and it pisses you off. Therefore, yay for me."

"Go."

"Fine," she grumbled, walking into her room and closing the door behind her.

She slid down the door as a heated argument began on the other side, started off with a soft, male plea of "Come back. Vogler's gone."

And fifteen minutes later, when there was an abrupt silence, she smirked, knowing exactly what they were doing.

Then she shuddered. "Ew," she whispered. "I hope to God they at least use protection."

* * *

o.O wtf. I have no idea what the hell this was. It's like...whoa...

let me just say that i _lurve_ the house/cameron pairing.

**peace out**


End file.
